


Of Intimacy and Warfare

by Florrama



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alarkling - Freeform, F/M, He WEAK, Just implied though really, Kinda dark!Alina, Romance, but it isn’t canon so, not canon, poor bby confused by intimacy, timeline a little skewed I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florrama/pseuds/Florrama
Summary: Alina confronts the Darkling after she discovers the attack on Nikolai during his birthday celebrations.
Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82





	Of Intimacy and Warfare

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the anon prompt: For a prompt request, I’ve always felt we were robbed in the books with no scene of Alina calling out the Darkling for being a jealous child and deliberately picking Nikolai’s birthday party for his attack.

She visits him that night: both tormenter of his dreams and beauty of his nightmares. Candles create a soft glow against the curve of her cheek, golden like the light that so often emits from her fingertips. It enunciates the tilt of her lips, the drug of her smile.

He sits at his desk, foot resting gently on his knee and his head laid heavily in his palm. It has been a long day, filled with planning and strategy and warfare - and he doesn’t know whether Alina’s presence is going to cure his headache or make it worse.

Aleks dearly hopes for the former.

Alina stops at his desk, fingers playing with one of the knives stabbed into the wood, acting as a temporary paperweight. He watches as she lightly traces the hilt, eyes on the map before them; dotted with red crosses and small figures, it outlines every successful and pitiful attack he and his generals have enacted so far. Her eyes stop on the drawing of the crown, slashed through with red ink. A soft sigh breaks the silence between them, and her eyes finally raise to meet his.

“His birthday? Really?”

Aleks runs his fingers across his lips as Alina keeps her attention on him, fingers still attached to the hilt of the dagger. She wears her golden kefta, embroidered with black touches - suns and swirls, all a nod to the side she serves.

Though he often feels like it is he that serves her.

And it is even stranger that he doesn’t seem to mind.

“It was the best strategy. All of those nobles, all of their guards, distracted with frivolity.”

“You’re just petty.”

His eyes narrow and Alina smiles, gaze flitting around the dark space before landing back on him.

“Come now, you know it’s true. Their distraction was just an added benefit.”

Truth be told, he still isn’t used to how well Alina knows him. Barely any time spent in each other’s presence, and yet she can read him like an open book - like the palm of her glowing hand. It sets him on edge, and by the way her eyes soften - Alina is all too aware.

She begins to make her way around the desk, fingers running across the inked lines and curves of rivers and mountains. They pause at every X she comes across, lips curving and a soft hum emitting from her throat.

“X marks the spot.”

Then, she pauses behind his chair, out of sight but never out of mind. Fingers run across his shoulders, just dipping under the collar of his kefta, testing the heat of his skin, before slowly sliding up his neck and slipping into his hair. He only just manages to stop the groan from escaping closed lips. She laughs softly - tantalising and all-knowing- and it makes him shiver.

“You need to relax. Being so dramatic must take it all out of you.”

His own hand comes to rest on the one that remains on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. It’s a domesticity he never thought he would quite reach; something he had given up on a long time ago, a wish merging with memories of screams and pain. Her fondness confuses him, sometimes, and his need to show his affection in return, as stunted and limited as those displays may be, confuses him even further.

It is the only thing he doesn’t understand that he is willing to keep around.

“You are quite delusional, Sun Summoner. I do everything with logical reasoning.”

Alina pauses her ministrations, instead choosing to tug slightly on his hair - it causes him to bare his neck, forces him to make eye contact again. He could push her off if he wanted, break eye contact and leave her to continue with her affections - but he doesn’t. Power in her hands is addictive. Especially to him.

“And would your logical reasoning here be jealously?” A kiss to his neck, followed by the scrape of teeth. “It kills you to know that he has kissed me.”

His lids flutter, and he smirks in return.

“And how would that make you feel? To know I make strategical moves with you in mind?”  
She pauses, breath brushing against the shell of his ear. He can feel it when she smirks.

“Powerful.”

One last tug, gentle, affectionate, and she releases his head. Her hands come to lay on his chest, head resting on his shoulder as they both analyse the map. They fall into a comfortable silence: Aleks absentmindedly runs his fingers across the bare skin of her wrist, occasionally tracing the curves of her knuckles and the dips between her fingers. Alina hums gently in his ear.

“You’re always powerful.” He practically whispers it, a voice in the back of his mind warning him that speaking too loudly will ruin the peacefulness they have reached. Losing Alina seems to be a constant fear of his. It’s not something he can shake.

“I know.” He feels her shrug, her fingers tracing the embroidery on his clothes. “But there’s something in making strong men weak, and something else entirely in getting them to admit it.” Another pause, and then another sigh. This time, it almost sounds tired. “He will have survived the attack, you know. And he will push back harder.”

“I am aware.” It’s something that has been bothering him. The prince is cunning enough to make his next move somewhat unpredictable.

“We’ll be ready, Aleks. I promise.” A gentle kiss to his cheek, the sound of his name on her tongue, and Aleks’ eyes close. He lifts her hand in return, pressing his lips to her knuckles and letting them rest against his check.

“Yes, Alina. We will.”


End file.
